Whirling Wheel
by Delan Cross
Summary: Harry bloody Potter is engulfed by his memories, full of mistakes, inadequacies and betrayals. His wish for a second chance is granted and Harry is brought away by Death, starting his life anew. Time Travel. This will be slash later on and rating will change to M. Pairing undecided. Enjoy!
1. Whirling Wheel

My new story 3 I'm giving you a fair warning ahead - this is gonna be a SLASH story at some point, BUT I have no idea at what point exactly that will be the case. It could be after only 20.000 words or after 100.000 into the story. No idea whatsoever! Whose who like it, enjoy and review!

"speech"

_thoughts_

_$parseltongue$_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Just my personal touch to his story.

**Warnings:** Will be slash at some point, undecided on pairing and will take a while till then, enjoy :3

* * *

_Fortuna spins her wheel round and round and as the earth spins it's circles, in the sky a new day starts his walk, no one may know what the day will bring to you all anew the hope takes root, as the beggar ascends the blue atop and standing proud and tall at fates door. _

**1. Whirling Wheel**

Harry descended into the Chamber of Secrets. It quickly became his retreat at the populated school as even in his headmasters office, calm never truly settled in. Being the leader of a boarding school for children truly revealed to be a full-time job, nevertheless a rewarding one. He had discovered his adeptness for teaching back in fifth year as the leader of the DA and now was happy to fully utilize that skill and hobby.

Harry sighed inaudibly and took a deep breath. The downside of the quiet in his retreat was that the memories came storming back and he grudgingly he let them flood him. Sometimes you just have to take the time to let your mental reins fall and allow yourself to remember and mourn for what you've lost. Occlumency only provides temporal relief, it is no solution. And Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Man-Who-Vanquished-The-Dark-Lord-Voldemort, the recipient for the Merlin Award First Class, former Auror, teacher of Defense against the Dark Arts and now Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had a lot on his plate.

Truly, he had a lot to remember and grief for.

Starting with the death of his parents, his first kill Quirrell, the murder of Diggory, the loss of Sirius, Dobby, Hedwig, Fred, Remus, Tonks,...and many more. Harry lied down on the lounge and closed his eyes, hands closed above his stomach like a dead. He wished he could cry, looking back, the past seemed to mingle with mistakes or inadequacies from his side. He could have managed so much better.

But the tears refused to flow as these particular memories had have been brought forward far too often. Time has smoothed the rough edges over and the shards of glass that were his memories no longer managed to make him bleed tears. No the memories he feared and that hurt were those that happened recently. The memories of betrayal as his supposed friends abandoned him one time too many. The only ones he still kept in contact with were Neville and Luna Longbottom, George and his godson Teddy.

Betrayal was no strange concept for him. After all his parents died because such a supposed friend betrayed them to Voldemort. He himself was turned on often enough. At birth, second year, forth year, fifth year, the year on the run. Betrayal by wizard kind in total by leaving him, their savior, at the Dursley's. His parseltongue ability turned most of school against him, his election as Champion of Hogwarts led to the betrayal through Ron, betrayed by the ministry and made into a scapegoat by the press and then again left by Ron on the run.

He was also betrayed by Dumbledore as he found out, endangering him, his friends and ultimately killing Sirius at the Ministry. Leaving him with the Dursley's, withholding information he needed and much more. He made him into a sacrifice for the Greater Good. Those two words enraged him more than anything else. Harry hated them with undying passion.

Those betrayals left him with a bitter taste in the back of his throat but he didn't cry from those wounds anymore. He had learned to accept them one by one, by telling himself that he did that he could at those moments in time. Truly, he did what he could, gave all what he had and more then he should have ever had had to give.

It were those more recent memories that hurt. But he brought them up before his inner eye one by one, reviewing them and hoping time would be merciful and dull the edges soon. He had to remember in order to not suffocate from the bale. He did it in order to find inner peace after.

The memory when Ginny divorced him. It turned out what he couldn't create a family with her as his childhood and basilisk venom had rendered him impotent. It wouldn't have been an issue normally, but he was never properly checked over by a mediwitch before and a private examination had brought forth many problems with his health. They tried to overcome it as best as they could, but Ginny simply couldn't stay in the end. She grew up with seven brothers, a big happy family was her wish as much as Harrys. She couldn't life with the thought of never being a mother and so they divorced after three years of marriage.

The divorce separated Harry from the Weasley's. He still kept in touch with George, Hermione, Bill and Fleur, but nobody else. He couldn't bear to as they stood on Ginny's side supporting her decision. Harry only could stare dumbly in shock as Molly had kissed him on the cheek and explained to him that he was welcome at the Burrow's anytime and they didn't hold it against him that he had failed to do his husband duties. Even Ron - his so called best mate - demanded in court for him to provide necessary alimony for his sister to keep up her living standards. Without a proper marriage contract they managed to strip him of nearly half his inheritance.

Needless to say, Harry had never been to the Burrow ever since.

There was no death threat this time, no dark lord lurking in the shadows, just Harry and the Weasleys. And it just so happened that the Weasleys chose the Weasleys over him. Now he no longer could hold any delusions on wether he was Mrs. Weasleys seventh son. He may be a son, but the son of Lily and James Potter and no one else. Thankfully, by that time he had outgrown his need of parents and family. Of something to fall back upon.

Ron and Hermione had two children of their own to take care of as did Fleur and Bill. So after work hours soon it was only George and sometimes Neville with Luna who joined him for a drink. Hermione too chose family over a friend and even though she was on his side in the divorce, if she didn't want a divorce herself she needed to take sides. She chose Ron. Scarce letters from Hermione reached him sometimes but he never answered them and none of the other Weasley's. He visited and helped raise Teddy, caught criminals then switched his job to a teacher and soon George, Neville and Luna were the only ones he had steady contact with.

Soon after the attacks began.

The wizarding world turned to him for help agains the muggle terrorist attacks. Ron himself had the gall to come up to him and demand - yes demand - him joining in the fight. Needless to say he refused. He was now a teacher and his war won. He told them loud and clear that he had no intention what so ever to involve himself in another war by more that selfdefense and defense of the castle.

At that, he was made a scapegoat once more. They screamed at him labeling him a traitor to his nation but they also couldn't afford to lose him at the same time, so the ministry decided to utilize him and his name to the best of their ability. The following school year he was made Headmaster of Hogwarts.

* * *

It was like discharging pus. You needed to cut open and clean the wounds before they could begin to heal.

Wiping the few tears away he still had in him Harry rose fluently of the lounge and moved towards Salazar's library. The library had easily become his most liked place in the whole wide world. He sincerely regretted not having found it when he was in his second year. That's right, it was the year he nearly got killed by a thousand years old basilisk to save his former wife. He really needed something else to do than rescuing people who wouldn't stay grateful for long anyway.

Only after quitting as an Auror and distancing himself from nearly everyone around him had he been able to see the damage he himself and others had inflicted upon himself. It was like when his eyesight had been stabilized by a mediwitch. He would never be able to regain his full eyesight but he could stop it from deteriorating further. As such he couldn't shrug away the harm already done to his body but he could stop it from getting worse. He no longer needed acceptance from others, no longer craved affection and friends with such vigor as back then. Which was the Dursleys fault. And who left him with them and secured his misery? Dumbledore. In the end most of his pain could be traced down to him. In the years after his former mentors death he had learned to despise him and was only a step away from outright hate. He refused to let it eat him up though. Unfortunately he had no way to correct his life.

The library was in one word beautiful. Harry had always liked the smell of books and back in the day libraries were his sanctuaries. He bitterly regretted having befriended Ron back on his way to Hogwarts. The others lazy attitude and dislike of books had unnoticeably transferred itself to him. While Harry was smart he purposefully slowed down his learning ability. It had begun with the Dursley's beating him to a pulp and starving him if he dared to bring home better grades than Duddley. That was balanced by him when he escaped to the school library from his cousin and friends and read every book he could get his hands on there. But with Ron...

With Ron it was the desire for acceptance and friends which led to him adjusting his personality to fit that of his new friend. He did most of the reckless stuff he did just to be liked. Now at his age he wished he had found friends who liked him for himself for once. Fred and George were the obvious choices. And then Draco. Yes, Draco Malfoy. The git made for surprisingly good company once you looked past his pureblood facade. Harry sincerely wished he had given the other a chance and discovered that without a war pitting them against one another.

He wished he could have sorted it out with Snape, actually be there for the welcoming feasts each year. Common days, common years with simple happinesses. Trying out pranking perhaps... He had a legacy to uphold after all.

The ancient magic of the castle flowed directly through here or more correctly the magic of the lay line flew directly underneath and directly affected the library, preserving the books since thousand years ago and some even older than that. The library was a work of art. It held three times the amount of books compared to the school library and no one but him had access to it. Secretly, he considered that the ultimate revenge against Hermione.

The library was separated into three general sections: Light Magic, Dark Magic and most importantly Parselmagic.

* * *

These three were of course separated into under sections like Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Potions, Magical Creatures and all the other subjects in the Hogwarts curriculum. That was the Light Side. The Light Side alone has taken him over a decade to complete reading. Yeah, it was a LOT of books. This library and the distance from his former friends has reawakened the beast in him craving knowledge. He came down here and read for hours each day. Harry never removed the books from the library, fearing to damage them carelessly. Even Tom - as annoyingly stupid he sometimes had been - had the brains to not damage and take out the books inside. Though, he probably thought that no one but him would be able to access the Chamber. Otherwise he probably would have tried.

The books he liked reading most, against all expectations, were the vast history books. Harry had never found himself interested in history before now, but he discovered that the subject in itself was well worth studying. Now that the topics were no longer dominated by Goblin Wars, he actually found the material interesting. He found the texts from a certain Marvick Sendo more intriguing than those of others. He carefully selected the topic he wrote about and wrote in a dry, unbiased style, which didn't fail to capture Harry's attention. It felt like the author wanted to invite or rather force his readers to think while reading his books.

Marvick wrote about the different magical beings in the world starting with Elves and ending with Vampires. He traveled quite a lot during his fairly long life, Harry concluded, as his books were able to compare to travel journals, though more objective and composed. The man didn't differ between the light creatures or dark ones what-so-ever, a fact Harry found the most interesting.

Until now each book he ever read about a magical creature, it was defined by it's status as light or dark. And while Marvick did mention which category the being belonged to, he never made the assumption the rest of the world concluded. Never once did the author translate the characterization light to good and dark to evil. Instead he introduced Elves he made acquaintance with, even one from the Elven Court, described their talks and important or unimportant but interesting landmarks. The same he did with vampires, centaurs, hippogriffs, dragons and lots of others.

Harry read about pieces of information he had never encountered to that day about those races and found Marvicks conclusions as to which political decisions from those races had affected the human history and shaped it.

Defense Against the Dark Arts came in as a close second. Harry was always gifted in DADA so that didn't come as a surprise for him. That came as a surprise was his liking and pull towards the Dark Arts themselves. They were represented by a fast majority in the Library of Salazar Slytherin. This wasn't the first time he had come into contact with those. Still, it was the first time no one pulled him away and chastised him on his darker side's interference. Dumbledore and later Hermione and Ron, have always ensured to keep Harry away from the subject of his interest. Lecturing him on the importance of self-control. Well, Harry had enough of self-control.

Then there was the Dark Section. Prejudiced as Harry was raised he still had some issues reading, not to mention learning that magic. As it turns out he was actually pre-disposed for that magic and Dumbledum had the nerve to withhold him his legacy from his fathers side. Harry had needed a week to calm down sufficiently after that particular discovery, before he completely immersed himself into the Dark Magic.

As it turns out the Dark Arts as cruel as some were, were useful in other instances and some were 'dark' for less than a decade. The Ministry conveniently classified everything they wanted as 'dark' and banned it under prosecution of the law. Some magic required the caster to be born dark, which was true for purebloods only. As part of the family magic and a child's inheritance even only some of those were able to inherit it too. The movement of integration of muggleborns into magic society since the beginning of the 90 banned most of the so called 'dark' magic. Slytherin had gathered truly dark curses in his arsenal which only the darkest or cruelest of wizards and witches could perform. Harry had needed some time to understand that there was a difference there and which exactly. Still he never contemplated releasing these books to the general public. No. Releasing this knowledge onto the world would bring devastation and a truly Dark Age. He couldn't comprehend how some wizards had the state of mind to invent some of the more gruesome magic.

And the Dark Arts were not the only part of 'dark' magic as Harry previously believed. There was Spell Creation Arts, specialized on Dark Spells, History of Dark Magic as that was no part of the official History of Magic class. After reading the books in that section Harry truly understood that the sentence 'history is written by the victors' meant. He debated changing the name of the class of History of Magic into History of Light Magic. So much history lost, lying underneath the castle, gone from the face of the earth. Dark creatures were probably the only ones who still remembered at least parts of it.

And that was his second biggest regret concerning the library. The books about Dark Magical Creatures were... detailed. He could have helped Remus with their help. He could still help the other werewolves with them, but with the muggles attacking nobody would be inclined to biggest regret though was the Parselmagic. The parselscript tomes were truly enlightening and he found himself studying the century old texts contained in it.

It gave the texts a pleasant spice by being written in parselscript. To the best of Harry's knowledge no one has read those in at least the last five centuries. They were already old when Salazar Slytherin had gathered them in his personal library, now they could be considered ancient.

It only was one shelf. One shelf with books written in parselscript and all at least two thousand years old. One of them dated even four thousand years back. Even with magic these books felt brittle and Harry was very careful handling them. He got even more careful after the first few pages. Which idiot labeled parseltongue as 'Dark'?! Parselspells were Healing Arts and they were far more advanced and stronger than any 'normal' spells used now four thousand years later. One book described the healing process after the Cruciatus curse for hell sake! For any nerve damage at all. Neville broke down crying when Harry told him. His parents died three years prior to his discovery.

Prejudices, preconceptions. How many prior rendered judgments had made his life hell? Happiness seemed so close and yet now after so much time too far out of reach. Harry was approaching his sixty-seventh birthday and though it was only middle-age for wizards, he no longer saw any future for himself. He saw himself getting old in the ancient castle and dying without a legacy of his own. What was the use of all that knowledge if there was no one there to benefit from it?

And so Harry came to the idea of time travel. His life was starting to get dull, of course he still had a lot to read in the Chambers library, he didn't read all the books available, he would still need at least another decade before finishing. The only section he finished and learned by heart was parselmagic, so Harry looked for another project to occupy his time and dissipate the dullness.

Recently he felt like another person looking at him walking through life through a window, walking in predictable patterns. And as Harry bloody Potters life had no chance to be boring before, the boredom now was numbing. The isolation. As much as Harry hated his 'abnormalities' before, as much he appreciated them now. His abnormalities were the only part of himself he managed to preserve through his life after all. _Freak_ was a word drawing smiles on his lips. Normality was overvalued as he came to know.

And being Harry bloody Potter was that made him hope he would be able to do it. Time Travel. Everyone was so sure that it was only possible to travel two days back at most. And he decided to prove everyone wrong.

He researched Time Turners, but alas there was only limited information on those available. He managed to prosecute one from France for a ton of money and much bribing. Still, he had more than a few tons to spend after all. Money never was a problem. Still there was close to no progress after three years of close research. The gold dust was a mixture of fairy dust, moonstone and spells for health stabilization. Hard to achieve and hard to build. Theoretically it was possible to travel further back in time than two days by enlarging the glass and mass. If one would build a Time Turner ten times as big as the original one, as big as a house, and collect enough of the mixture to fill the hour glass, theoretically it should be possible to travel back ten times as far back. But counting in the unpredictability and concentration of the mixture, it would probably only send a person back up to five years back in time.

Nevertheless it was only theory. The Time Turners in all of England were destroyed by him in his fifth year at Hogwarts. The other countries would never hand over all of their Turners and he never would have enough money to by them all. Additionally, Harry strongly suspected that even if he collected all time Turners in the world, he would be unable to fill that theoretical glass.

And last but not least, five years wouldn't be of much use to him really. He would probably take that much time to build it, if not longer. There was nothing he needed additional five years for.

* * *

Exhausted Harry flopped down on the lounge again. He debated going up to his flat beside his office, but had a change of heart. After all tomorrow the weekends began and he deserved a bit ease and tranquility. He took a deep breath and slid into a meditational state of mind, strengthening his Occlumency shields and banning his nightmares into the back of his mind. Nightmares weren't daily occurrences anymore and Harry was deeply thankful for it. But on days like today where the past seemed to lurk behind the next corner, he held his shields firm. No use ruining his night and thus the next day by carelessness. And so he delved deep into his mind, clearing it of thoughts.

Then, by no conscious decision, Harry began to dream of how things would be if he were to begin anew. He guessed that it would probably be impossible to rescue his parents. Who would take a baby serious? But he would be able to get Sirius out earlier. He could avoid trouble at the Dursley's and once Sirius were out of Azkaban he could life with him. At last he would be able to spend some quality time with his godfather. He also could prevent his body from taking damage with malnourishment. He would be able to grow tall and with no problems at childhood and proper treatment at St. Mungo's of the Basilisk venom... he could have children. A family.

"Hello, Harry."

Startled Harry jumped from the lounge and turned towards the voice. First there were only outlines, you could see there was something there, but no visible form took hold. After, slowly but surely the form of a hooded figure appeared as if painted onto a canvas of air.

"Death?"

It sounded ridiculous but some part of Harry was sure he was right. The figure looked exactly like Death is described in stories. Except for the part with the scythe. There was none there. And after the Peverell brothers story, Harry came to believe in Death somewhat.

"Hello, Master." Death, it seemed, had a good sense of humor. At least the sarcasm was noticeably there in his raspy voice and the mocking bow did the rest nicely.

"Wow, joking aside. You are death? How come you look like the Grim Reaper out of fairy tales?"

"Stories have to come from somewhere, boy. Near death experiences. Never heard of them?"

"So the descriptions of you come from people who nearly died?"

The hooded figure nodded.

"I paid them a visit, prepared to take them with me, but they were strong enough to hold on to life and so I left again. Alas I must say no one had escaped my clutches as often as you did."

"Oh?"

Death laughed.

"Quite. I admit I became interested in you and didn't protest about you becoming my master because of it. You proved your worth to me, more than anybody else had managed and I had a fun time betting on when you will die and come with me."

"Glad to be of service.", Harry commented dryly. "But I've never seen you."

Again Death laughed. But this time it was short.

"Oh, no. Think again, boy. You saw me, you just don't remember anymore."

Harry stayed quiet for a long time, but no meeting came to mind. He looked up to Death puzzled. The figure sighed.

"Think. The first time you escaped death was when you were just a baby. I know for sure you saw me as I saw my reflection in your eyes. You were just a child and so you forgot."

"Oh... And other times?"

"Other times you came REALLY close to coming with me, were in second year from the basilisk venom, in forth year at the cemetery, fifth year I was there for your godfather and you nearly came along, sixth year not so much, but seventh year was interesting."

"Wait." Harry sat down, suddenly weak in the knees and ran a hand through his hair. "Did you come today because today I will die?"

Death smiled. Harry had no idea how he knew as there was no face to see, but he _knew _Death was smiling.

"Yes. You called me, because you decided to die."

Harry stared at the other completely gobsmacked.

"What?! That's ridiculous! I may be bored, but I'm not suicidal! I was just lying down and relaxing, prepared to fall into blissful sleep!"

Death shook his head.

"I don't know how or why, but I only come when my master wishes his death or the death of others. Since you aren't in battle or dangerous situation, I came to the conclusion you wanted to die yourself. Or do you want me to take somebody with me?"

"NO!"

Harry stared at Death wide-eyed and not only slightly angry. 'What's going on here?'

"Look. As I said I don't want to die or kill someone else. I was just lying here, relaxing and thinking about my past. I don't know why you're here!"

Death floated closer and stared intensely.

"Your past? Were you thinking about how you wanted to change it?"

They clearly weren't on the same page here. Probably even in a different book.

"Yes. I researched Time Travel, because I wish I could go back and change things. But I can't. My research only works in theory and only about five years back in time. What does that have to do with the price of butter? I thought you only deal with death."

Death backed away and laughed. More like roared his amusement into the world. Harry just wished he would get the joke.

"Boy! You really are a great master, I chose well! Are you saying you want to go back in time? To the day of your birth? Because I can do that."

Harry was officially confused.

"How?"

"How? I'm Death, Master. And Death is timeless. I exist wether you like it or not and as my master you have certain privileges. Like Time Travel. But it works different with me. I have no corporal body and souls are my customers. That is why flesh stays on earth and returns to earth, you see? So I won't be taking your body with your soul."

"How?"

Death sighed.

"Look, I will explain, so please get your brain to work again. I can't actually time travel and so neither can you."

"But you just said-"

"Silence! Death is all encompassing, boy. It's the cycle of rebirth. I take the souls and when the souls are ready they are reborn with no memories in a new body. They have no memories, because it's the law. It would be too confusing to have all the memories of previous lives. Though sometimes some memories still remain. I can't take your body, like a Time Turner, but I can take your soul, after the death of your mortal body. Wishing to travel back, you wished for suicide in a way and as such I came running. You understand?"

Harry shook his head and tried to process the information.

"So... basically you can take me to the moment of my birth?"

"Yes, I can take you anywhere you like though. Your soul will simply be housed in another body."

"No thanks, being Harry Potter is enough trouble. Still as tempting as it is, I can't. It's of no use to me to travel back to my younger me and forget everything."

"Oh, no need to worry about that one. You are the Master of Death. My Master. As I said, you have certain privileges. If you say you want to retain your memories, you can."

"Oh."

Silence descended into the Chamber. The possibility was tempting. 'And isn't this exactly what I wanted? A second chance at my life? So why am I hesitating?'

"Look, you can think all you like, but I'm a busy person. Well, not actually a person, but you get it. I'm needed and while a few minutes of delay don't mean much, I don't want to give a chance for a jam to build itself. Yes or no?"

"What are the repercussions?" Harry gouged holes into Death.

"Repercussions? None. Though reality as you know it will cease to exist."

"WHAT?!" Harry jumped up panicked.

"Oh, calm down. You want to change things, don't you? You won't simply repeat every step you took the same way, right? You are the Master of Death. And as such you being reborn in the past will kill the reality you build before. The changes would be greater if you had gone back five hundred years. As such you would have erased fife hundred years of the current history. But you only wish to go back seventy years and as such seventy years will be rewritten by you. There is only one timeline and no other dimensions, master. There is only this world."

"So basically I will change time?"

"Why so flustered? That is basically what you wanted is it not? And you wanted to rewrite history, no? Besides you wish to make it better, right?"

"Do not try to manipulate me! I've had enough of that in my life, I can make my own choices! And yes I want to make it better - but better for me and nobody else. Though it will be better for some people if I change the course of history... Hell, I will be a prodigy in Hogwarts with years of experience to build on!"

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his face.

"I will need some time Death. Go about your business, I will call when I've made my decision."

And with that Harry was alone in the quietness of the dungeons again.

* * *

The next day found Harry sitting concentrated on the lounge and thinking about how he wanted to change things. Force the ministry to free Sirius legally, no glasses, no Ron to stab him in the back...

"So you came to decision, Master. You always were fast to act."

Harry opened his eyes.

"Hello, Death. And yes I prefer to act before missing the train and being left behind. We all have to deal with the choices we make and I'm ready to take responsibility for mine. I don't care if I'm being selfish. I have a right to happiness and in return I will make sure none of my friends need to die. I will get rid of Voldemort."

"You don't have to tell me that. I am Death, I don't care for the mortals and am only interested in you because you managed to escape me dozens of times and managed to become master. I will do my part of the job, collecting souls. You do your part and amuse me."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Right. I will be a selfish jerk then and just do what I like. I'm only human, I will protect me or mine and Dumbledore can go screw himself! I wish I could think like that... I guess I will just think of this as a second chance at happiness. Well to the task at hand. I was wondering if I could take something with me?"

Death shook his head.

"Only your soul and memories. I am not in charge of anything corporal."

"What about the Hallows?"

"You are my Master. The Hallows are forever yours to command. You won't be taking them with you, but they will still be yours in whichever time you wish to be. Claim them, when the time comes."

"Right..." Harry grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Oh, I will thoroughly enjoy the look on Dubledorks visage, when I _claim_ them."

Harry giggled and then full out laughed. Yes, life was finally about to get interesting. He never said his goodbyes, just played chess with Teddy, and shared a round of drinks with his three friends. A last set of happy memories, before he left. He swore to make their lives richer and happier. Neville's parents, Luna's mom if possible and of course preventing the bullying and Fred would never die if all went the way he wanted. Teddy's parents would still be alive. Harry just hoped there would still be a Teddy.

"Alright. Where do you want to restart?"

"Is it possible to save my parents?" Harry answered with a question.

Death shook his head after a bit of thought.

"No, it's impossible. You are just a fifteen months old baby at the time. You can hardly walk, your speech is inadequate and you can't use magic to influence the situation."

"I can't use magic?"

"You are just a baby, Harry. You can't do magic. A child's core is still too underdeveloped for it. You would end up a squib. And even if you took that as a price for the life of your parents, even if used all the magic available to you, it would just be a puddle compared to the might of Voldemort. The madman can't be stopped by anybody from killing your parents. It's war. People die."

"I see..." Harry sighed. 'Well, that was probably too much to hope for anyway. I can't have everything. And thankfully I'm no child anymore. I will grieve for them, but I will always know they loved and cared for me. I'm glad I'm not dependent on parental figures anymore.'

"I don't wish to witness my parents die again. Please take me to the moment where I'm lying on the doorstep of the Dursley's. I don't remember when first did accidental magic, but if I don't wish for a malnourished _and_ beaten body, I would better take precautionary measures."

"As you wish, Master. So mote it be." And with those words Death's skeleton hand grabbed his inner core and Harry fell into the cold dark sea of blackness.


	2. A New Day

**2. A New Day**

Slowly the darkness dispersed. The sounds of birds broke through the stillness around him and he felt a bit cold through the blanket around him. Blinking repeatedly, Harry forced his eyes open. Not that it helped much. As his eyes got used to the light, the only thing Harry could spot was the gray-blue November sky. It was broken through with the first rays of sunlight and the crisp morning air had a stimulating effect. Harry took a deep breath. He honestly doubted the peace and quiet would last for long now.

And he was proven right the next second. Busy steps came hurrying to the front door. Harry let his eyes fall shut as the door opened, revealing his aunt in her dressing gown.

"AHHHHHH!"

Aunt Petunia to a T, Harry though dryly. Her shriek cut trough the morning like a knife through butter, dispelling all peacefulness. The birds took flight, escaping the mad woman.

"Petunia?! Petunia, darling, what could be the matter?!" Heavy footsteps came rushing in, sending vibrations through the floor. Shocked, Vernon froze on the door step. After another minute of unsure silence, life returned into the two adults.

"Hurry! Bring him in! Before the neighbors notice something unusual!" Vernon took command of the situation. Petunia hurriedly crutched down and lifted her nephew of the ground.

With a bang the door closed.

* * *

Baby Harry was a quiet kid. In fact nobody saw him make any noise nor talk till after his fifth birthday. He was like a ghost, walking the house, invisible, unseen and unnoticed. While such behavior so unlike any other baby would have alerted other adults, Petunia and Vernon were too preoccupied with the eternal screaming Duddley. Sweet Duddles and Harry were complete opposites in behavior. While Duddley seemed to find it impossible to survive without constant attention from his parents, Harry did everything to divert attention from himself.

For another baby, meaning one who isn't an adult in a baby body and magical to boot, such habits would have been suicidal as it would simply have died of starvation at the Dursley's. Obviously, Harry was no normal baby. He could take care of himself, at least limitedly. To nurse his magic he never used it, hoping that it would be possible to refrain from using it till his forth birthday, when a child first starts to show his accidental magic naturally. Not much use traveling back in time and becoming a squib after all, he reasoned. The Dursley's saw no need to lock his cupboard and as such he could leave for the loo in the night and get himself some food after. It was tiresome and in no way healthy, but Harry concentrated on survival. Baby Harry had a strong sense of self-preservation.

* * *

"Boy! Breakfast! Hurry up, Duddles is hungry!" Petunias shrill voice cut through Harry's dream haze. With a sigh said boy sat up, yawning and stretching his muscles as best as he could in the confined space of the cupboard.

The next minute, Harry dressed in his rags and his glasses on his nose, left to prepare breakfast. Vernon was already there munching a toast and reading his newspaper. Quietly Harry expertly prepared pancakes. His pancakes were the best far and wide, dripping with aroma, thick and juicy. Combined with syrup, they simply seemed to melt on the others tongue.

His pancakes, quiet and excellent work around the house since age four combined, made sure that the Dursleys treated him with some sort of grudging tolerance. Aside from Petunia, the other two completely ignored him. And with no sudden outbursts of accidental magic, they had no reason to fear him being magical. Harry never asked questions, made himself somehow visible, never mentioned the word magic at all. He made sure to get worse grades than Dudley, which was a hard feat in it's own way and stayed away from his cousin. Out of sight, out of mind as they say.

Harry had tolerated his last six years underneath his aunts roof once again, having made peace with the necessity of it before coming back in time. Today was his birthday, but of course none of them remembered it. Still, he was mainly left alone and that was enough really. Thankfully he was a child in body only and didn't crave their attention and acceptance anymore and so it didn't bother him in the slightest.

Nevertheless, Harry was bothered by some things. Today the Blood Wards Dumbledore had erected would cease to exist as his and would instead feed of Harry's own magical power. The constant drain of magic was bothersome for an adult, but it was dangerous for a child. The Blood Wards would act like a leech and drain his core daily. Like malnourishment and beatings cripple the body's health, constant drain of magic before the core has stabilized would lead to his magic being undeveloped. His magic had still been fairly strong in the first go, but it never could have been compared to Dumbledore and Voldemort. Now he would be able to find out just how much damage the Blood Wards had done to his magic before.

Harry still couldn't explain to himself why Dumbledork saw it necessary to cripple him. A magician was said to consist of three parts: his magical core, his body and his soul. Harry's soul was already dry of love and affection by the time he went to Hogwarts. Witnessing his parents death does that to a child and the Dursley's made sure the inner wound didn't heal. The rejection and hate that oozed from them would make any child bitter to the world. The Dursley's had also starved his body, overworking it and beating it. And the erected Blood Wards had made sure his magical core suffered. As such all parts that made a person magical had been crippled, all on Dumbledores orders and decisions.

Why? Did he want to cripple him, so Harry doesn't get out of his control? Did Dumbledore wish to get rid of competition? Did he fear another Voldemort reborn?

Whichever it was Harry had long decided to not go along with it this time around. Each year on the night of his birthday, Dumbledore would come in the middle of the night and perform the Protection Blood Ritual and disappear again. Out of the Blood Ritual section in Salazar's library Harry had only looked up two rituals out of personal interest. He didn't trust himself with the knowledge of other ones. It was tempting to use them, one required an iron will like with the Dark Arts not to lose to the temptation. It was like drinking alcohol, only better, and you needed to built some resistance to it before you could properly use it.

Harry had stayed up the whole night like every year, but Dumbledore never came. So his former mentor had left him to his own devices at the age of seven, huh? Harry had already begun to feel tired from the drain of magic, he needed to perform the ritual himself fast. The wards would still feed of his magic, but at least they would be fed by his blood and not his magical core. That would be tiring in the beginning, but he would get used to it eventually. The difference of blood against magical core would be that there would be no permanent damage to his core, instead the drain would help him build up stamina and thus enhance his magical core instead. He would need to be careful not to get caught by his guardians though. They would raise hell if they knew that he performed blood magic on their house.

* * *

The night was dark and deep. It had been a rainy day and rain drops would probably start falling again soon enough, so Harry decided he needed to hurry. Everyone else had gone to sleep one hour before, soon the clock would strike midnight. Quietly, Harry opened the door of his cupboard underneath the stairs. Luckily, Petunia didn't warrant him enough attention to bother locking him up. Harry was so obedient, she probably couldn't imagine him creeping through the house and breaking rules in the middle of the night. Oh sure, he could normally perform some easy wandless magic to get out, but Harry felt so weak right now, that he would probably mess up an easy _Alohomora_.

The front door swung open and closed behind Harry again. Outside Harry straightened himself to his full hight and stretched, inhaling the fresh summer air. It smelled of summer, flowers and rain on the plaster. It was the best. There were three minutes before the end of his seventh birthday and so Harry jumped down the stairs with new vigor and went to the front of the driveway.

The Protection Blood Ritual used on the Privet Drive number four needed to fulfill three requirements to function properly. You needed to be housed with at least one relative by blood, you needed to have had the Sacrificial Offering performed on you before and the incantation for it to work. As Harry always suspected it had been his mother to save him from Voldemort by performing the Sacrificial Offering on him. That was the second Blood Ritual he had researched in the library. And as it was a necessary fulfillment for the Protection to work, Dumbledore always knew of it. He had probably found the Blood runes under Harry's crib in Godric's Hollow. Another lie to take offense from. 'Which idiot would belief a barmy old man, when he tells you, you were saved by love?! My mothers love for me was the reason she offered herself as sacrifice, but it was the blood ritual that saved me.'

As all requirement were fulfilled Harry cut his finger with a knife from the kitchen and held his hand straight ahead of him, waiting for the blood to drop.

_Blood freely given_... one drop. Harry spun a quarter clockwise. _A sacrifice made_... two drops. Another spin. _To protect_... tree drops. Another spin. _And to guard_... four drops. Last spin. _Me and mine_... Harry stepped back out of the cycle and made a deep slash through the palm of his right hand, splashing blood into the middle of the circle. Harry kneeled down, careful not to smear the blood through careless touches. In the middle of the circle he drew the required runes into his blood. A circle, symbolic for a dome above the house for protection. Four lines at the quarter marks from the middle through the cycle walls for each resident of the house. And a dot in the middle for his mothers sacrifice, the source of the protection.

A soon as the dot was in the middle, the blood gleamed red and small waves seemed to ripple from the middle to the outside. The wards regenerated and stopped draining Harry's magic directly from his core. It felt like a big burden was lifted from his shoulders and Harry heaved a sigh of relief.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the cut on his palm and finger. One minute later both were healed, although the flesh was new and very sensitive to the touch. He would need to be careful not to break the fresh skin again.

Doddery and weary from the endeavors of the day, Harry sank into his mattress and was asleep already as the clock broke midnight. Rain started to fall and washed away the remains of his efforts outside. Nobody was the wiser the next day.

* * *

"Aunt Petunia."

Petunia looked up startled. She was just sitting down for her morning coffee and relaxed on the couch. She was so used to Harry being quiet all the time, she sometimes forgot that he was there at all. Wide-eyed she looked at him and then frowned. Embarrassed at her reaction she unloaded her anger on her nephew, because he dared to speak. The first show of defiance!

"What?! Are you done with the dishes? If I find even one speck of dirt in the kitchen, you won't get lunch, boy!"

"I'm done aunt."

"Done? DONE?! You will never be done you ungrateful brat! If you haven't got enough brains to think of anything to do yourself, go work in the garden! My flowers are looking dry again already!"

"No."

Stunned into silence by the simple reply, Petunia could only gape at her nephew. Not only did he speak up, but he also said no to her. He had never said no before!

"I want a talk. Aunt, we both know we hold no love for each other. You want me out and I want the very same thing. Now I heard all your stories of my parents being drunk driving and dying in a crash, when you were in a foul mood and wished to hurt me, despite me never asking and never hurting you. But the thing is, I know you lied."

Harry stated calmly. Oh, how he had looked forward to this talk! It was little of payback and he surely wouldn't inflict any visible harm on her, but he still could try to harm her by other means. Truth is a bitter medicine. Sometimes words can cut deeper than knifes ever could. And the reactions! Merlin, he hadn't had that much fun in years, forcing himself to hold back! That's why he didn't speak much at all, because he would probably end up saying rude stuff. He could appreciate a good tongue lashing!

"What?"

"I know you lied. My mother, your sister, was a witch. And my father a wizard. I am a wizard, too. You were just jealous as hell of the gift my mother inherited and you didn't, dear aunt."

"WHAT?! Don't fool yourself boy! I don't know who told you, but you aren't magical! Otherwise you would have already performed some magic! And I was never jealous of that bitch! I regret the fact that I had to be related to her! She was an abomination of nature, just like your father was! Freaks! Both of them FREAKS!", Petunia shrilled through the whole house. She had stood up and was now looming over Harry, panting and breathing harshly.

"No, you were jealous. You even wrote a letter to Dumbledore, but you were born a muggle. But I'm magical. I was born a wizard and in four years I will get a letter from Hogwarts. And I will go to school there." Harry stated calmly the facts. Though, truly, he needed everything he had to stay calm. On the inside he was laughing like a madman. He strengthened his Occlumency shields, he could laugh later, he still needed to fulfill his role.

"You won't be going anywhere near that school, you freak! Do you really think Vernon will spend his hard earned money on you to learn some magic tricks?" Petunia smirked evily.

"Right. Normally, money would be a problem. But you see, I was admitted at birth and my school fees are already paid for, so money is no issue." That was utter bullshit of course. But they were still his guardians and as such had access to his money vault. Harry wouldn't hold it above Vernon that his hate for the magical community would hold up in relation to money. No need to rub their nose into the fact that he was rich. They're not getting one Knut from his vaults!

Petunia grund her teeth together.

"Fabulous! So you freak, will be going to that school of freaks! Good for us, at least we will be rid of your kind!"

"Exactly!", Harry beamed at her and rendered her silent once again. "I hate and despise you and this house and can't wait to get away, you see! But we have a common problem to achieve that goal. Dumbledore."

Harry looked at her expectantly, waiting for agreement. And as much as it pained Petunia she had to agree. If not for Dumbledore, Harry would already be at an orphanage.

"So? You have a solution?" Petunia asked sarcastically. She had stopped wondering where the brat had gotten his information from. In fact, despite her sarcasm, she hoped he did. And Harry didn't disappoint.

"I do." He moved and sat down, tucking his legs underneath him. He waited patiently for his aunt to sit down opposite of him.

"You see, this is why I waited for Dudley to leave for friends and Vernon for work. If everything works out, by the time they are back, I will be gone." Harry paused to see if Petunia kept up with the influx of information. Satisfied with what he saw, Harry pressed on. "As I said I know you lied concerning my parents. They were both killed during the wizard war, on Halloween and by some stroke of luck I killed the wizard that killed them." N need to go into details for muggles.

"So? What are you driving at?"

"My point is, that the reason you are keeping me at your home, is because Dumbledore threatened you isn't it? He said indirectly in the letter he left behind, that he would leak information about you to the supporters of said wizard, right?"

Pale, Petunia only stared at the wall behind Harry for a while.

"How do you know, Harry?"

'Wow, that was probably the first time she had called me by my given name! Miracles over miracles. It will probably rain today again.' Concentrating on the matter at hand, Harry dived right in.

"I know and that is all you need to know. He had no right to do that and truthfully I would be happier at an orphanage than here. Here are the facts: most of Voldies supporters are in Azkaban, the wizard prison. The rest are still on a short leash and under observation. There is no need for me to stay here any longer. But Dumbledork won't agree."

The unexpected insult elicited a startled laugh. Harry's mouth twitched.

"As I said, Dumbledork will insist I stay here. But I can take care of myself and better than you take care of me. My parents also left me with a small house. It's run down and needs some repairs, but I could stay there and sell some ornaments from there. I'm also entitled to some small allowance from the bank, so I would be able to live comfortably and can move out."

Petunia looked him over.

"But you're still a child..." At that Harry only snorted.

"Oh, please. Don't pretend you care, dear aunt. You have your head full with Vernon and Duddle Duckie, so don't pretend. More often than not you forget my existence and starve me. You only remember me, when you need something done."

'Wow, miracles. I didn't know I still cared. I guess somewhere I still wanted things to be different... That's bitter.'

Petunia nodded reluctantly. She clearly didn't like the picture I described, but saw no point in denying the obvious.

"But Dumbledork will notice and what then?" Here Harry smiled cheerfully.

"He won't notice. You see he stopped erecting the Blood Wards and now I am erecting them. Don't ask, I just observed how he does it and I managed to copy. Now, he has no reason to come here anymore. He thinks the wards are being fed by ma magical core and as long as they stand, he won't return. If they were being fed by my magical core I couldn't leave for more than a month without them breaking down around us. But if they are fed by blood, as right now, I can leave wherever I like and he won't notice a thing, as the wards will still stand. I would only need to renew them once a year on my birthday and he won't notice a thing. And what he doesn't know won't hurt us!" Harry grinned at her expectantly.

"So... basically your saying, you can make it so Dumbledore won't notice and we will be safe?"

"Yes! Do we have a deal? I only explained it all to you instead of simply leaving, so you don't stupidly alert Dumbledore and blow our cover."

Harry sat still patiently, waiting for an affirmative answer. Because there was no question Petunia would agree.

"Alright." See? "But only if you're sure."

"I'm sure. He won't notice and you're safe. There would only be one problem. I will have to come for a visit from time to time."

"What?! Why? I thought you didn't want to be here?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I don't. But Ms. Figg, your neighbor is a squib and Dumbledors spy. She will alert Dumbledore if she notices something amiss."

"What?!" 'Merlin, she likes that question. Why look so indignant if she spies on her neighbors all the time herself?'

"Look it will be no problem. I'm at home, in my cupboard most of the time. Dudley rarely sees me. Just don't tell him I'm gone and invent some excuses. I will show my face from time to time and act the act of your house elf?"

"House elf?"

Harry sighed in expiration.

"Whatever. So? All done? Just don't mess up and we won't have to spent more than a couple minutes in each others company each month."

Petunia bit her lip and nodded. Harry clasped his hands.

"Great! Well, I'm gone. Bye. I will come by on the fifteenth of august for a couple of minutes and work in the garden, so Miss Figg sees me. Be at home or make sure everyone else is gone. I will come by floo."

"Floo? Wait, you're leaving immediately?"

Harry was already at the front door, when Petunia hurried behind him.

"Yeah, if anyone asks, just say I've gone shopping for groceries. Laters!" Harry waved cheerfully. His throat hurt a bit, because this was the most he had talked in years. Still, he wanted to shout his freedom out into the world.

"Don't you... well, need to take anything with you?" His aunts voice brought Harry back down to earth. He just looked at her in incomprehension.

"And what exactly? You didn't even send me to school, remember? Or are you suggesting I take Dudley's castoffs with me? What for? To light a fire with them?"

Petunia chewed her lip frowning.

"It's a bit late to bother. I don't need anything from this house. I can take care of myself, I wouldn't be leaving otherwise. I will see you on the fifteenth."

Shaking his head, Harry was gone the next second. Once around the corner, he made his way to the next bus stop heading towards London. He walked with a spring in his step, whistling happily and grinning from ear to ear all the while. He didn't even lie. He would be going shopping. Just not for groceries.

It was a beautiful day.


	3. Diagon Alley

**3. Diagon Alley **

1. August 1987

Harry exited the bus and walked the ten minutes towards the Leaky Cauldron. He made sure his scar was hidden from view by his hair and fixed his clothes a bit. He probably needn't worry. Diagon Alley would be full of people right now, parents and kids shopping for the Hogwarts supply list. Entering the pub, he realized how wrong he was. It wasn't simply full. The pub seemed near to bursting at the seams. Making use of his small figure, Harry squeezed himself through the mass of people, entering or leaving the pub. Constantly people arrived, most by floo, and as such even by pushing himself forward, Harry quickly encountered his inability to move forward. He gave up and allowed himself to be pushed towards Diagon Alley. No, he really needn't have worried about being recognized.

Harry headed north, as he decided he first needed to settle his matters at Gringotts. The building was as imposing as ever. The multistoried snow-white marble building towered over the over vendors, like a giant over gnomes. Harry strolled towards it without haste. Diagon Alley was the first part of the wizarding world he had seen back then and now nearly seven years had passed till he had set foot here. He loved every minute of it.

He walked up the marble stairs, Gringotts emblem above the doors and read the familiar motto: _Fortius Quo Fidelius - Strength through Loyalty_. Bowing slightly to the goblin guards, Harry walked through the first set of burnished bronze doors into the small entrance hall. Before him were the familiar set of silver doors engraved with the famous warning:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_  
_Of what awaits the sin of greed_  
_For those who take, but do not earn,_  
_Must pay most dearly in their turn._  
_So if you seek beneath our floors_  
_A treasure that was never yours,_  
_Thief, you have been warned, beware_  
_Of finding more than treasure there._

Reading the letters Harry couldn't help but smile. He still remembered clearly how impressed he was by those words on the silver doors. Goblin guard in uniforms of scarlet and gold bowed and opened the doors. Harry smiled and surprised them by bowing back too, before stepping through the doors into the large marble hall, counters stretching along the sides. Right now the hall was filled with people of all ages waiting to be brought down towards their vaults. Goblins calmly walked through that sea of customers, refusing to be rushed. Thankfully, Harry already knew the procedures, which saved him the pain of standing in line for at least another hour.

He walked past all the counters to the very back of Gringotts to the secretary goblin taking care of the incoming paperwork.

"Excuse me, sir?" Harry waited patiently. He knew the goblin had heard him as they had excellent hearing, and so the lack of response could only be traced back to Harry being a kid and as such unworthy of immediate attention or the goblin being busy. Or both. As such Harry remained standing before the counter, gritting his teeth and waiting patiently to be acknowledged. Impatience was the same as impoliteness to the goblins and Harry had always been on good terms with those creatures. No sense ruining that by trying to save a few minutes.

Nearly fifteen minutes had ticked by before the goblin put away his quill and leaned over the counter to inspect the little boy before him.

"Yes?"

"I want to access my account, sir."

The goblin sneered and shook his head sitting back down again.

"You're at the wrong counter boy. I only handle paperwork. Can't you see?"

"I know that, sir. I wish to access my vault but I have a personal accountant in this bank, I was told. If you would be so kind to point him out to me? I would like to address other business than money only."

Harry saw he had the attention of the secretary again as he leaned over the counter again.

"Personal accountant? Can I have your key boy?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not in the possession of my vault key. That is one point of business I would wish to address."

The goblin sneered.

"Oh? Then what is your name boy?"

"My name is-", Harry hurriedly looked around. He probably wouldn't be overheard in all that noise, but he refused to take chances. So he looked up to the goblin and shortly lifted up his bangs. The goblins eyes widened and after a minute of thought he nodded.

"This way, if you please." The goblin began leading the way through golden doors into the inner makings of Gringotts. No matter how many times Harry had been there, he never could remember which way to go. It was a labyrinth, cleverly made with mirrors everywhere but the marble floor. It was impossible to retain a sense of direction in these floors. The goblin before you was your only way in and out.

They stopped about five minutes of walking after, just like the first time Harry had been visiting his account manager and all the other times. Three knocks later, his guide opened the door and let Harry inside.

The room looked as majestic as Harry remembered. For a moment it seemed as if time had stopped in this room and he was thirty again encountering Burdok for the first time. Forcing himself back into reality, Harry looked to the big table with a familiar face behind it. Familiar to him at least. He walked closed to the table and bowed slightly, staying silent and waiting to be addressed. It was only proper as Burdok was his elder, nearly three hundred years old, and proper manners can only help no matter who it is on the other side of you. Burdok eyed him curiously and nodded in return.

"Hello, how may I help you?"

"Hello, my name is Harry Potter, sir. I've come to take control of some of my inheritance available to me and take out some money from my vaults after all business is settled. Am I right in assuming, that you are the Potter account manager, sir?"

The goblin smiled a bit and put his quill away.

"You are quite right. I am Burdok, the Potter account manager. Pleasure to make you acquaintance, Mr. Potter."

"Harry please, sir. No use calling that if haven't even received my Hogwarts letter as of yet." Harry smiled brightly in return. He was honestly happy to meet his old friend again. Burdok nodded.

"Adress me as Burdok in that case too, Harry. I must say I'm surprised. I didn't expect to be visited by the heir of the Potter fortune for quite some time yet."

"What you actually mean is that you didn't expect Dumbledore loosening his reins on me and allowing me to visit, isn't that right?"

Burdoks eyes widened comically. And then he full out laughed. It wasn't the nicest sound for human ears as it sounded like bricks smashing against each other.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter, indeed. Good, good. You seem aware of the situation you are currently in. It seems boredom will take a while to settle in again, I shall have great fun showing up that pretentious ass. Can you believe it? He pushed though a regal regulation, that states that neither me or Gringotts are to contact you out of our own accord! He messed with my client, with me and with the gold we could have lost had you not hunted me down yourself, Harry. Good job, really I'm impressed."

Both simply smiled at each other for a while. Finally Burdok broke out of the self-satisfaction he was bathing in.

"You do not have a key of your own do you, Harry?" Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I do not."

"I thought so as the only key in circulation right now is in Dumbledore's possession. He had a right to it as your magical guardian. Give me a moment... here it is."

Burdok pulled out a black parchment.

"This will cost you quite a bit, 30 Galleons, but it is also the fastest way to prove your identity, Harry. This parchment is made out of Archaic Wood and as the name already suggests, it shows your ancestry and the vaults eligible to you. Is that alright with you, Harry?"

"Sure, I don't mind. What do I do?" He had never done that one before, as he had already known which vaults were by right his. But it sounded interesting, so why not?

"Lay one of your hands in this mixture and make a shallow cut in it. The mixture will absorb the blood and then you simply spread the mixture on the paper. Yes, right. Now simply run your hand across the paper. Alright, Harry. Here is towel for you. Do you need a bondage?"

"No, thank you Burdok." Harry concentrated on the cut on his hand and once again, the hand tickled and prickled underneath his magic. A few seconds later the cut was healed and gone. Burdok was good, but he was still unable to hide his surprise completely. Wandless and wordless healing magis is supposed to be impressive, even more so for a seven year old. "What's there?"

"Oh? Well..." Burdok quieted down. He glanced up and cleared his throat. "Here, take a look."

Puzzled Harry leaned forward to examine his properties.

_Name: Harrryy James Potter_

_Birthday: 31.07.1980._

_Parents: James and Lily Potter (nee Evans)_

_Inheritance: _

_Potter School Vault 687 _

_Potter Family Vault 829_

_Potter Estates_

_Black Family Vault 711_

_Black Estates_

_Evans Family Vault 321_

_Gryffindor Lord Vault 913_

_Slytherin Heir Vault 898_

"Emm... I have some questions."

"How fortunate. I have some too. This looks like it will take a bit longer. Shall I get us some tea?"

"Please."

While a house elf fetched the tea, Harry stared down at the Archaic Wood paper that listed his vaults. It was a staggering number. He knew and also held all of the Potter properties before. Though there might be some changes now as he has taken hold of his estates 25 years earlier than before. He also held the Black name the first time around, but nearly 10 years later. So Sirius had named him heir even before he escaped Azkaban? Was he named heir right after his birth? The Evans vault was relatively small, it was more of a hidden asset for his mother. He should liquidate his assets there and add it to his school vault. It were the last two he wondered about. Oh, he knew he was the heir of Gryffindor since his second year when he had pulled Godric's sword out of the hat. And he knew that he was the next in line after Riddle for the Slytherin name through the Horcrux in him. Tom had just about adopted him through that, but still... He had no idea there were vaults to go along with the titles. Right. Probably Dumbledore. He was usually at fault one way or another.

"Your tea."

"Huh?"Harry jumped in his seat. "Oh, thanks, Burdok." They quietly sipped their tea, till Burdok couldn't hold himself back anymore.

"Well, Mr. Potter. It seems the name is acceptable after all. How does it feel like to own more money than anyone else in all of Britain."

Harry choked on his tea and got into a desperate coughing fit. Finally, the lungs won and he could breathe again.

"Excuse me?"

"You are the richest man in all of Britain. There is no doubt to that or at least you have the chance to. I have already brought you the Lord and Heir rings here, see? If they all accept you... well, lets just say, we two will make a lot of money."

With these words Burdok got out a masterfully crafted wooden box and revealed three rings.

"Lord rings? Aren't I a tad too young to wear these?"

"No. You are the Lord of the Potter, Black and Gryffindor family and there is no one else to inherit those positions. As such it is only legitimate that these belong to you. Don't worry, no one can take these away if you accept. Well, try them on first... they still need to actually accept you."

Hesitantly, Harry reached forward and took the Potter Lord ring first. The ring looked to big on his small middle finger, but humming quietly the ring adjusted and fit perfectly. Burdok nearly jumped in his seat due to overexcitement. Who could blame him really? The Black Lords ring on the left beside it and the Gryffindor ring on his thumb. All rings hummed their melodies on his left hand and made a wonderful symphony if he concentrated on it. Loud clapping brought Harry out of his reverie. Burdok shone. Harry could honestly admit that he had never seen a goblin this happy and he also admitted that it was quite scary. It was scary as hell.

"Mr. Potter let me congratulate you. Now as Lord there are some paperwork you must sign. Here let me see. This here is a proper emancipation warrant. Merlin, I want to see Dumbledores face when he finds out! Sign here and here please, Mr. Potter."

"Wait, wait, wait! What do you mean I'm emancipated?"

"Well, you are a lord now after all. I didn't dare hope, but not only one but all rings have accepted you as their master. Do you understand how rare that is? And I belief you are the youngest lord ever and the youngest adult to get emancipated!" Burdok grinned from ear to ear.

Baffled Harry took the paper and read it through. It was a common earlier emancipation document. Signing with flourish, a minute later seven year old Harry Potter was legally an adult.

"Is this being sent to the ministry? I wouldn't want all the attention..."

"Oh, no need to worry. We keep the original at Gringotts, one copy goes to the ministry and one to you into the Potter vaults. The copy sent to ministry won't be noticed by anyone, I assure you. They get a ton of documents each day. The emancipation is legal, the old families would raise hell if the ministry would come in-between them and their old rights. The approved documents simply self-organise themselves and get into the right folder. The emancipation can stay under wraps until you wish to reveal it yourself, Lord Potter-Black. I'm afraid you may have inherited the Gryffindor vault but the only place where the name Lord Gryffindor is still accepted is Hogwarts castle. You cannot wear it in public."

"I knew that already... Lord. Merlin, I believed I would have to wait till seventeen till I would be called that. And emancipation to boot."

"Yes, yes." Burdok nodded. "Usually that's the case. But as you have no one above you, you were entitled to try it before you came of age. If the rings or some of them had rejected you, the next time you would be entitled to try would be after your seventeenth birthday."

"I see." Harry leaned back on his chair. It was incomprehensible. He came today as Harry to take control of his school vault only and will leave as Lord. Life was ridiculous like that. How much earlier could he had been emancipated! It made things so much easier! A weapon to slay his opponents with and it was entirely legal. Though he assumed, that he was only able to become lord as a seven year old now, was because of his added life experience from before. But who will now know? He had at least deserved the chance to try in his last life. Dumbledore had no right to withhold him his rights.

"Can you inform me of my new status, Burdok?"

"Surely! Since you are now an entirely emancipated legal adult, you can access all your vaults, but the Slytherin one. You need to be Lord to actually access it. You own five seats in the Wizengamot, the British high court of law and are eligible to take part in it. The lord rings allow you immediate access into your vaults, all keys are now null and void. You own six vaults, four of which are high security vaults, and various properties around the globe. You are the richest wizard in Great Britain! I can make us some gold!" Burdok sang with happiness. He didn't really seem to care about the political advantage, but he certainly loved Harry's gold.

"Burdok. We can make us some gold. You did not forget that these are my vaults and you work for me, did you?" Burdoks expression immediately fell in shock. Harry just chuckled at his misery.

"Did you forget the consequences of making me lord, Burdok? Of making a child lord?"

Burdok paled and after the last sentence he looked quite sick. Harry just laughed at him.

"Calm down. I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist. I will let you have some freedom and I understand why you are so happy. I'm guessing Dumbledore had no interest in investing my vast fortunes? My accounts had been frozen for seven years and you were not allowed to contact me and my muggle guardians were of no use. I understand you, Burdok. But I am lord now and not in name only. I will make my own decisions and some you may not like but that is no problem of mine. It is my money we're talking about. Just think of it this way: The rings accepted me and they probably had a reason. I do not wish to ruin myself. You can invest up to... let's say 10.000 Galleon without my permission. Everything above it will have to be discussed with me. I want a weekly account balance and all documents of shares in companies my money was and gets invested in, sent forward to me too. Is that acceptable?"

Burdok seemed to recover and after a bit of thought, he nodded and both shook hands.

"Alright. Uff... I've been up and about here longer than I suspected, it's time to go. I will be expecting the first documents by the end of the week. I know you will have a busy time now with all the vaults and businesses, so I will give you... two months? Will that be enough to have everything sorted out?"

"Yes, Lord Harry Potter-Black." Harry smiled relieved. He was already standing when he remembered something.

"Oh, and Burdok? Another matter. See here, my name is misspelled on the parchment. Why is that? I thought it is accurate?"

Burdok glanced at it.

"That's because the name change hasn't been officially accepted yet."

Harry froze.

"Name change?"

Harry's voice came out cold and void of any emotion. Burdok wondered who it was he was working for, for no child was supposed to have a voice like that. He cleared his throat loudly.

"Yes, it will only be legally accepted once a witch or wizard becomes eleven and is allowed to legally procure their own wand. The Hogwarts letter would make it official. I know it's possible to change names easily in the muggle world, but names have special meanings for wizards. It is quite hard to change overall."

"Why would my name be changed?"

Burdok stared back at Harry incomprehensibly. Then his expression became blank. He started searching through the papers and documents on his table till he found that he was looking for. After reading it, he silently handed it over.

"Dumbledore... dared to change my name... How?" Harry was beyond angry now. His headmaster had done a lot of things Hadrian was mad about. Like leaving him at the Dursley's, crippling him, keeping secrets from him, endangering his life, stealing his money and other minor things. Somehow, at that moment, the fact that he DARED to change the name given to him by his parents, a gift, his very identity... it felt so much worse than anything else. And he would never have known. After all it became official when he received his Hogwarts letter. Meaning the well built trap was there before Harry had even seen it. The day he discovered the wizarding world last time, was the day his name changed forever. But not this time...

"What is it? What is my real name?"

"Hadrian James Potter."

"Hadrian...", Hadrian rolled the name over his tongue tasting it. He liked the name. It sounded mature. Confident and strong.

"As I know it, Lord Potter, Harry was your nick name your dear mother called you by. I admit, I never noticed something amiss. As your magical guardian it was within his rights unless you yourself declined the name, Harry. Or is it Hadrian now?"

"Hadrian. That is my rightful name and I want it back! Also remove Albus Dumbledore as my magical guardian, I no longer need one. And close my mothers vault. Transfer all the money in her vault into my school vault. I will keep it for now for appearances sake. I want this all to go about quietly. I want Dumbledore and the Ministry off my back even for a day longer. All we spoke of today is to be kept confidential."

"Yes, Lord Potter-Black. If you would sign these."

"Is that all? Is it official already?"

"Yes, Lord Potter-Black. The moment you signed it became official."

Hadrian nodded thoughtful.

"I want another parchment of Archaic Wood, please."

"Certainly."

_Name: Hadrian James Potter_

_Birthday: 31.07.1980._

_Parents: James and Lily Potter (nee Evans)_

_Inheritance:_

_Potter School Vault 687_

_Potter Family Vault 829_

_Potter Estates_

_Black Family Vault 711_

_Black Estates_

_Gryffindor Lord Vault 913_

_Slytherin Heir Vault 898_

* * *

Burdok accompanied him to the golden doors, they shook hands and Hadrian departed to handpick his coins. He was offered a pouch with that he could have directly accessed one of his vaults. Hadrian refused for two reasons. One: The pouch would immediately reveal him as lord. His lord rings could do the job but his wish for them to remain unknown, made the rings disappear from sight. No senses would be able to pick up on them till Hadrian wished so. He could still feel their weight on his fingers though. Secondly: He enjoyed the ride.

No one said that he had to behave like an adult, just because coincidentally mentally he was one. Hadrian walked straight to one of the carts.

"Hey! That do you-"

"Think you're doing-"

"With our cart! Go-"

"And wait-"

"for your turn!"

Hadrian would recognize these voices everywhere. He slowly turned around, keeping his expression carefully blank. Before him stood the Weasley's in all their glory. No, not all the Weasley's. As far as Hadrian saw there were no Molly, Ginny or Ron in sight. Meaning the three persons he wanted to see least of all were not there. The people he liked were all there though. Arthur was in charge of the shopping this year it seemed. Bill, who would be attending sixth year and Charlie who prepared to go into his forth year. Hadrian could hardly believe that that prat was supposed to be Percy starting his first year at Hogwarts. And that... that were the twins. Fred and George. Together.

"Hello?"

Fred and George simultaneously raised an eyebrow.

"Hello. Would you be so-"

"Kind and step out of the the way?"

"Excuse me, but the boy has precedence. He came from business in the Inner Chambers and those don't have to wait in line for the next cart. The cart is his." The goblin leading the cart intervened.

"What?! That is-"

"So not fair! WE-"

"Waited for one and a half hours-"

"For our turn!"

Fred and George shouted indignant. The other Weasley's didn't seem happy either. Arthur just sighed in defeat.

"I need to go down to Vault number 687. If you want we can share the cart if you don't mind. I like the ride."

Surprised, the Weasley's exchanged glances. The twins just grinned and without waiting for confirmation from their father agreed.

"Sure! We like-"

"The ride too!"

That made everyone chuckle and all seven got into the cart. Hadrian, Fred and George all secured the front seat together.

"Vault number 687 and..?"

"Oh, number 526 please." Arthur voiced. 'Wait, I should probably call him Mr. Weasley. Merlin, that twists my tongue..'

The goblin just nodded and the cart slowly started picking up pace.

"Hey, I'm Fred!" George said.

"And I'm George!" Fred said.

That joke was so familiar, Hadrian burst out laughing. The two exchanged a look and looked questingly at Hadrian.

"Sorry, it's just...haha. I'm pretty sure it's the other way around." Hadrian grinned at them. "And I'm Hadrian by the way. Nice to meet ya!"

The other Weasley's exchanged a knowing look. Hadrian was right of course. The twins were completely taken off guard and that wasn't a common occurence.

"Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you, Hadrian." Before they could continue on, the cart sped off. The three had the fun of their live. Hadrian could still remember clear as day, his first drive underneath London. The carts in Gringotts were better than any roller-coaster. Much too soon the cart slowed down and finally stopped.

"Vault number 526, please." The goblin announced.

The three were still giggling and red in the face. On the other hand Arthur and Percy were somewhat green. Mr. Weasley exited the cart and went towards their vault with the goblin. Hadrian purposefully turned his back to the vault to spare the twins the embarrassment, though they were not Ron, so maybe they felt differently. Merlin, he hoped they did. He had only got to know them well enough to judge that after forth year and them opening shop, so he had no prior knowledge. Hadrian guessed he would have to do it the old-fashioned way.

"You two play Quidditch?" An universal topic. Immediately their faces lit up.

"Yeha, we are best as beaters."

"We hope to get into our Quidditch team at Hogwarts. What's your position?"

"Hmmm... I'm seeker, a damn good one too, if I may say so about myself." I grinned. Two identical grins flashed back.

"Hadrian, which team-"

"Off we go! We have everything!" Mr. Weasley called and sat back into the cart. With that the cart suddenly took a turn down and they fell. Hadrian and the twins got a bi bang out of the drive and screamed their lungs out. The joys of being a child.

"Vault number 687, please!" The goblin announced.

"That was awesome! We had never been so deep down before!" George laughed excitedly.

"Hey can we come along? Just out of interest." Fred added when Hadrian was about to exit.

"Ehh...", Hadrian thought fast.

"Don't worry, we know you're richer than us! Even if you don't look the part!" Fred picked up.

"Yeah! We don't really care! That's just curiosity taking over." George drove his point home.

"Boys! You really-"

"Nah, it's fine, if you really don't care that is. I kinda have a problem with people getting all jealous and pissed about my money. You can help me collect it into my pouch in return, yeah?" Hadrian chuckled and waved them over. Grinning the two followed suit.

The goblin scratched and drew some lines only he saw onto the door and it disappeared like mist in the morning light. Hadrian heard hitched breaths and indrawn breaths from behind him at the mountains of gold before them but he didn't look back. He calmly walked into the cave full of gold galleons and calmly got out his pouch. It was charmed with featherweight spells and only he could get out that he put inside. In one corner it had a small Potter emblem sewed in. He loved it already.

"You two gonna help or what?" He turned his head towards the twins while collecting galleons with one hand already.

They looked at each other and back.

"You know I can see why it would be easy to hate you." Fred said bluntly. Hadrian braced himself.

"But we wont." Both chorused at him and giggled madly when they saw Hadrian's startled face.

"You should close your mouth-", Fred began.

"Or your chin might fall off." George finished with a serious expression. Hadrian's mouth twitched.

"Stop being smart-asses and get to work. You said you would help remember?" Hadrian smirked at them and the twins smirked back. Both crutched down beside him and began trowing galleons into his pouch.

"How many of those do you need?" Fred moaned.

"Only one thousand or so."

"WHAT?!" The twins eyed him flabbergasted.

"Yeah, I will be shopping all day today. Need a lot of stuff. Like books, clothes, food, parchment and quills, potion supplies and so on."

"Damn! We made a bad deal. And here I thought we got the better bargain." Fred cursed under his breath.

"You got a lot of money lying around here, Hadrian. But nearly no artifacts. I see only a cloak." George said looking around. Hadrian hummed before he stopped. He looked to George.

"Cloak?" He barely dared to hope.

"Hm? Yeah, over there." George pointed t a pile of money right from them. And there it was. His father's invisibility cloak. 'It's mine now...' Hadrian picked it up tenderly. Now that he concentrated he felt the Hallow respond to something in him. Hadrian got his first Hallow back. He felt a lump in the back of his throat and cleared his throat loudly. Hadrian turned towards George.

"Thanks. I thought... Well, I thought it was gone. So thanks. I may have had overlooked it." The twin was clearly embarrassed so Hadrian just gave a crooked smile and went back to picking up money.

Ten minutes later Hadrian and the Weasley's found themselves outside blinking against the harsh light of the sun.


End file.
